Tucked In
by LickMyThermometer
Summary: Takes place during 97 Seconds.  When House wakes up, he and Wilson exchange words and a bit more than words.  Slash.  Heartily deserving of its rating.
1. Chapter 1

I've been writing in this fandom for a grand total of one day… and already I've started slashing people! I'm sorry. House and Wilson are just so cute together I can't help myself.

During _97 Seconds, _when House wakes up and they have their chat…

* * *

"I love you."

Wilson sighed and tried to feel annoyed. "That works for angelic six-year-old girls who fingerpainted on the walls," he said severely. "You, on the other hand, are a grouchy middle-aged man who deliberately stuck a knife into an electrical outlet. _I'm sorry, I love you _won't cut it. We'll talk when you wake up."

"Yes mommy." House closed his eyes.

He looked so absolutely wrung-out that Wilson couldn't leave him with just a reprimand. Instead, he dropped a hand wearily to the pillow and said, "Love you too, House."

That should have been the end of it. But House shifted a little and turned to nuzzle into the touch, muttering something against the inside of Wilson's wrist.

_He must really be out of it,_ Wilson told himself. He couldn't resist wondering what kind of silliness his friend would produce in such a state, though, so he bent and put his ear close. "What?"

"Feels good," House mumbled, then took a quick nip at the earlobe in front of him.

Wilson jerked to face him, but before he could react any better than that, a hand came up behind his head and pulled him in for a kiss. On the lips.

For a second, before he managed to think, his body did what came naturally: lips parted, head tilted for a more comfortable angle…

But he almost instantly overcame the shock and pulled away. House's eyes were open, his face serene. _He has no idea what he just did, _Wilson decided. _He probably mistook me for Carmen Electra. _He tried to straighten up, meaning to run for it and never mention this again.

But House still hadn't let go of him. His hand slid around from behind Wilson's head and he ran his thumb over the slack open lips. "Wilson, shut up," he said clearly, before pulling him back in.

_Okay, so he knows I'm not Carmen Electra…_ The grip on his collar was surprisingly firm, and besides, saying no to House had never been one of Wilson's specialties. So, when a tongue moved against his lips he opened to it, even angling himself to give better access. It turned out House was a good kisser. And that though the feel of stubble against his face was strange to say the least, it wasn't unpleasant.

Many seconds ticked away. As a soft purring noise came from House's throat, Wilson found himself relaxing into the kiss a little more. He leaned down and planted an arm on the pillow to take some of his weight.

House shifted under him, smoothly, making room for him to sit down. Wilson did, without even considering pulling away. (He wouldn't have been able to anyway, as his lower lip was caught between House's teeth.)

He bent closer, letting his friend sink back into the bed and relax. The position gave him a feeling of unusual power, which he tested by coaxing House's lips open with his tongue and venturing in.

House allowed it. He even moaned softly to invite more.

Wilson took the hint and, careful to keep supporting his own weight, mashed their lips together and pushed his tongue in deep.

Soft noises again, House sucking and encouraging-

-And then seizing up with a pained gasp. Without thinking, he'd reached up to touch with the burnt hand.

Not half a second later Wilson was sitting bolt upright, flushed red, looking away. He could feel those blue eyes on him and in the sudden silence he could clearly make out the slow, wet (and now unbearably erotic) sound of House licking his lips to speak. _Oh, no. Say something_, he ordered himself. "Um…" He had to think up something flippant, sarcastic, reassure House that it would not be necessary to push him away… "You have coma breath." _Perfect!_

Even now, only just recovering from death, House didn't miss a beat. "Don't tell Cuddy, or I'll never get that pity fuck I'm angling for." He pulled the covers up to his chin and asked, "How do I look?"

"Appropriately pitiful." Wilson was astonished at how normal they both sounded. He stood, thought better of giving a pat on the shoulder, and turned to go. "Get some rest, House."

"Yes mommy."

* * *

The End.

This is probably a one-shot. I'm not sure – it just popped into my head today. But as of now, that's the end. Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Couldn't wait any longer to write a bit of explicit slashy fun, but take heed: next chapter will have plot. Other characters. That sort of thing.

If you dig the story, please let me know! If you have ideas about what you'd like to see in it, say something. I definitely want feedback. I'll post again soon...

* * *

Wilson waited until they were in his car and he was driving – even House, he figured, would not be crazy enough to jump from a moving vehicle. "So, are we going to talk about it?" he asked. 

House was facing the window. "If I say no, will you let it be?"

"How can you– House, you can't do this to me! I'm your best friend. I have to know you're not going to do it again."

"It was… an experiment," House said brightly. Too brightly – the way he sounded on those rare occasions when somebody had caught him off guard and managed to hurt his feelings. "Forget it, okay?"

"_Forget _it? I cannot _forget _that you tried to kill yourself!"

House turned fast to face him. "_That_?"

"Oh." Long pause. "Uh… you were talking about… the other…?" He got no answer, and cleared his throat. "Was that also a one-time thing, or do you plan on doing _that_ again?"

"Light's green. Drive," House ordered. Once they were no longer making eye contact, he asked, "Do you _want _me to do it again?"

"We're no longer talking about the killing-yourself thing, right?" Wilson thought it over. "You know what? I don't know. I'll admit I did not, at all, in any way, shape, or form, see it coming. But on the other hand… I did kiss back." He paused, thought fast, decided to keep the mood light. "Quite well, if I do say so myself."

"And he's so modest, too." They pulled up in front of House's place and sat with the car idling. After a bit House reached over and killed the engine, _tsk-tsk_ing loudly. "You're wasting gasoline."

They had been to enough bars together for Wilson to recognize his friend's MO. "Are you… _flirting _with me?" he asked, incredulous.

"Do you _want _me to be flirting with you?"

If House answered a question with a question one more time, Wilson was going to kill him. "Enough is enough," he huffed instead. House wouldn't give him a straight answer? Fine – there were other ways. He leaned in, grabbed him by the chin and kissed him hard.

House responded enthusiastically. Fun as it might be to sit steaming up the car like a couple of teenagers, though, he knew his leg couldn't really handle the contortions and so pulled away pretty fast. "Wanna come inside?"

Already halfway out of his seatbelt, Wilson couldn't resist going: "Do you _want _me to want to come inside?"

But of course he couldn't get the last word. "Do you always answer questions with questions?" House asked on the way up the path. "It's annoying."

Before Wilson could think up an answer to _that_, the door was open and he was stepping inside.

And once the door had closed behind them, there was no more time to chat – rather than give themselves time to chicken out, they were on each other so fast it was hard to say who kissed who first.

* * *

Wilson pulled back a little. "House… have you ever…" 

"Nope. But neither of us rides the short bus... I'll bet we can figure something out." He went back to kissing and made a playful grab for his friend's package. "Hmm. I think I might know where _this _goes…"

Wilson laughed nervously, but allowed himself to be turned around and hugged from behind. He sucked in his breath when teeth found his neck. Hands ran across his chest, into his shirt, over the bulge in his pants.

He was already breathing heavy and worried that he might get flak for being so desperate, but fortunately House was too busy kissing to taunt. They stumbled over to fall, still entangled, on the couch. "Are we squishing your-"

"Quiet," House ordered, cupping Wilson's jaw with one hand and teasing over his crotch with the other. He cocked his head as though asking for permission.

"Yeah- yes. Definitely yes."

So House bent to kiss him, deeply and with a lot of confidence. Figuring he had the whole making-out-with-a-guy thing down by now, he decided it was time to move on. He rubbed Wilson through his pants and murmured, "Good?" He got a jerky nod in response and leaned in close again. This time, while they were kissing, he felt around for the belt buckle and opened up the unfamiliar fly.

He sat up after a bit to look the situation over.

Wilson blinked. Rendered unusually sarcastic by the sudden neglect of his body, he said: "It's called _penis._ You've got one, too. It's actually useful for a number of things, one of which being-"

"Oh, shut up. I'm working out logistics."

"Logistics?" Wilson ached. "It's not hard, I promise you. You take your _hand_…" he wiggled his around for emphasis, "And you put it right back where it was. Right _there_."

House's eyes gleamed. "Show me."

"Show…you?"

"Show me. I want to see how you do it."

Wilson protested at first, but as usual, he ended up caving in the end. He closed his eyes and started jerking himself off, enjoying the feel of the warm strong arms around him. When he finally got up the nerve to open his eyes, House tore his attention away from the demonstration and looked him in the face. "My turn?" He took over, mimicking Wilson's speed and rhythm of choice.

At first Wilson was quiet, other than the occasional hisses and gasps… but when it occurred to him that House would probably stop too soon just to torment him, he started begging preemptively. "_Please_ – like that. Keep doing… just don't stop..."

"Wasn't planning on it," House assured him, although he had in fact been toying with the idea. He was having fun. At first he'd thought that touching his best friend's dick would be the absolute weirdest thing he was prepared to do today, but on a whim he found himself bending down and closing his lips around just the very tip.

Wilson surged up with a strange noise that sounded something like _oh God_.

They made eye contact, and the bright flash of blue drove home the fact that it was House – _House_ – who that wet warm mouth belonged to, and Wilson was suddenly almost there.

House slid off to the floor to get a better angle. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Do you have _any _idea…"

"Yep, in fact I do." House alternated the speaking with sucking. "I do it to myself… basically every day… Sometimes more than once a day." He paused, hand and all, for effect and added, "Well, not the licking part, I don't think I could actually-"

"House!"

"Oh, right. Sorry." He started up again, firm and fast, and it wasn't long. Just in time, he pulled away and introduced a handful of Kleenex. He looked very pleased with himself.

They watched each other warily as Wilson caught his breath. "That better not have been a _used_ tissue," he said at last.

House gave a pretend guilty look and dragged himself slowly up onto the couch while Wilson wiped off.

They sat quietly for a bit, til Wilson thought to ask, "Um, do you want me to…?"

"Why is it always about sex with you?" House whined, pitching his voice high. "Maybe I just want to cuddle!" He scooted closer and put his arm around Wilson's shoulders.

With his other hand he found the remote. He turned on a porno flick and opened up his pants. "Mind?" he asked as he started to stroke himself.

"Hmm? No, of course not," Wilson said, still a little groggy. "But if you want, I could…"

"It's okay, I got it."

Ordinarily Wilson might think that nothing could possibly warrant looking away from twin blonde lesbians making out with each other, but at that moment he found himself considering House the far more fascinating option. He was jerking off slowly, calmly, not self-conscious at all. In fact, he looked more relaxed than Wilson could remember seeing him in a very long time.

Wilson realized that if he didn't watch himself he was liable to start feeling all warm and fuzzy, and then that would really freak everyone out.

So he turned his attention to the screen and asked, "If they can do that to each other, why do you think they need guys at all?"

"Wait for it..." House laughed as a hairy, burly male entered the scene. "See? That's why. Smoking babes they are indeed, but they don't have one of _those_."

"Ah." Wilson looked back and forth between the movie's _one of those _that was being inserted energetically into one orifice after another, and the _one of those _that his friend was rubbing right beside him. "I've always liked when women do that," he said after a bit.

"Do which?" House sounded breathless, eyes on the TV.

Wilson's eyes flickered once more to the screen before settling on what was in front of him. "This." He reached beneath House's pistoning hand to cup his balls and massage gently.

House sped up. "Ooh- yeah, me too." He watched the onscreen lesbians and Wilson watched him, soaking up the rare sight of House with his guard down.

"Feels good?" he asked cautiously.

"You bet." A bit later: "Almost- Gimme tissue-"

Wilson could feel the sac tightening in his hand. "House, look at me," he ordered suddenly.

House turned just as oh someone better have a kleenex _fuck_-

His eyes rolled up, then drifted blissfully closed. When he finally opened them again, Wilson was still watching him. "Yes?" he said hoarsely.

Wilson laughed a little. "Nothing, House. Nothing." Figuring the lesbians no longer had anything much to interest them, he reached for the remote and changed the channel. "Want to watch the game?"

* * *

TBC.

What do you like / not like / want to see? So far we have a very large hit count and a very small number of comments. Don't make me bust out that rectal thermometer!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Changed my mind about other characters / plot / etc. This will be one giant H/W lemon. If you don't want to read pure unmitigated graphic slash, you have definitely come to the wrong place.

Oh, and Pain Management will be updated soon. Today or tomorrow.

* * *

Wilson walked into the exam room in his lab coat, holding a file, in full-on Caring Doctor mode. "Hi. I'm Dr. Wilson," he began, then looked at the patient. He glanced at the file in his hand, then at the _HELLO my name is TOMMY_ sticker on the patient's jacket. He narrowed his eyes. "_Making up _a patient? That's a new one, House, even for you."

House was sucking on a lollipop, unapologetic. "Needed to get you in here."

"You could have paged me," Wilson pointed out, "The way you always do when you want to hide in the clinic and watch TV."

"Don't want to watch TV. And I _definitely _didn't want Cuddy to barge in on us." He took a long pensive lick and then said, to the lollipop: "I want to fuck."

Wilson blinked. "With… me?"

"Yah."

Wilson's breath left in a long whoosh and he ran a hand through his hair. "Okay."

House seemed surprised at the lack of argument. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. Oh, don't look so shocked," he scoffed. "It's a little late for us to be playing blushing maiden with each other, isn't it?" He took off his lab coat and hung it on the back of the door, faking nonchalance as best he could. "So, who does who?"

It was a mark of how nervous he was himself that House didn't have anything mocking to say. "Wanna flip for it?"

Wilson laughed. "Who am I kidding?" He stepped up to the exam table, planted his feet wide apart, and rested his elbows on it.

House said it again: "Seriously?"

"You've already screwed me in every other possible way."

"You have a point." House went up to him and manhandled him from behind – grabbing his ass, rubbing his shoulders, biting the surprisingly sensitive patch of skin where his shirt had come untucked. He loosened the tie, too.

Wilson shivered at the brush of fingers at his neck, and suddenly became extremely apprehensive about what he was about to do. "House… this is probably like asking the sky to please not rain on me, but…" He turned to look over his shoulder and make eye contact. "Don't hurt me too badly, okay? Be careful."

House was still for a moment and Wilson wondered if he'd said the wrong thing. Would House laugh? Be insulting? Be insult_ed_? After all, he had just implied that-

"Jimmy," House teased gently, "Did I hurt you the other night?"

"No, but we only-"

"Then so far I'm batting a thousand. Have a little faith." House finished with the tie, undid a few buttons so his partner wouldn't look quite so formal, then stepped back and patted him cheerfully on the hip. "Take your pants off and get up on the table," he instructed. "On your back."

"On my…" Wilson did as he was told. As he folded his pants over a chair he heard a noise that surprised him, and turned to check. "Are you… putting _gloves _on?"

"What?" Being new to this and therefore clueless, House was a little defensive. "There's no need to be unsanitary." He balled up his jacket and slid it under Wilson's lower back to lift his hips up, then without another word lubed up and penetrated with just a finger. "Let me know if it's too uncomfortable."

The clinical nature of it, House standing over him watching him so professionally, was weirding Wilson out a little. "Should I turn my head and cough?" he joked.

House's smile was warm. "Only if you want to." He massaged the tight ring of muscle, small movements an inch or so in and out, watching for reaction. "How's it feel?"

Wilson blushed but didn't answer.

"Look, there's a lot of nerve endings here," House pointed out. He withdrew and rubbed from the outside, circling a few times before easing back in. "You could be straight as an arrow and totally alpha, and this would stillfeel good."

Wilson relaxed, satisfied that he wasn't going to be made fun of for enjoying himself. He watched House and suddenly imagined their roles reversed – _House _lying here letting himself be opened up in this way, and without warning his cock twitched and came to life. "Yeah – feels good," he said breathlessly.

"So I see." House teased the erection with his free hand, then warned: "Deeper now, okay?"

Wilson sucked in his breath as the finger slid in all the way. Damn, House had big hands. Although not as big as-

His cock jumped again at the thought of it.

"So," House asked after a moment, "More?" At Wilson's nod he squeezed a second finger in beside the first.

The small, shallow circles and the occasional deeper strokes were now ten times more intense. House also began twisting slowly, stretching him, watching his face just to make sure.

But Wilson wasn't in pain. "Let's go – I'm ready," he breathed. "I want…" he trailed off, unsure of how to finish.

"You want what?" House pressed wickedly. "I want to hear what you want."

"Come on." I want _you_? I want _to feel you inside me_? Ha, House would love that one. I want _you to stick your penis into my rectum_? Probably more his style. Wilson sighed. "Let's go, man. Me want fucky-fucky."

House laughed and reached up to ruffle his hair. "Euw," Wilson protested, "You just put your cock-hand on my head!"

House thought he might never get tired of hearing sweet little Jimmy talk dirty. "Better than using the ass-hand," he pointed out, as he pulled out and tossed the glove (inside-outed in a smooth practiced motion) to the floor. "Ready?"

Wilson watched him unzip and roll on a condom. He watched him rub lube all over himself lovingly, and thought _Next time I'll do that._ The idea of prepping House for what he was about to do was, for some reason, an intense turn-on.

Cold wet something touched him and he flinched.

"Deep breath," House said. "Good. One more… breathe out, and:" He pushed in just a little, paused when Wilson clamped down on him. "Relax for me." The moment the pressure eased he rolled his hips forward, sheathing himself all the way.

They both froze. Their eyes met. House nodded. "Nice."

* * *

TBC.

Yeah, sorry, I left off in the middle. I gg now, but I'll post the rest of this tonight. Leave me love!


	4. Chapter 4

Wilson held his breath for a moment, then let it out. "Wow."

House stroked out a little and back in, still watching. "Does it hurt?"

"No. A little… uncomfortable. But not… um, in a bad way."

"Kay." House began a slow, easy rhythm. "This is _so _weird."

"Good. But weird," Wilson agreed.

"You know, it'd be easier for you if you were on your hands and knees."

Although he liked to see House's eyes on him Wilson knew he was right. He nodded and they separated, clumsily. "It's not bad though," he said as he got into position. "At all."

"Well, good." Wilson gasped as an arm snaked around his waist. He could feel the shift in House's position as he took his cock in his hand and touched it, not as cold as before, to its target. "And hell-_o_!"

Wilson surged forward and groaned as he was speared with all eight inches at once. "_Ah- _House that's big," he gasped out.

House bent low over him, chuckling into his ear. "Why thank you."

"It doesn't-… count as a compliment when it's _-mmn!- _jammed into my guts!"

House began thrusting slow but deep. "Seriously, you okay?"

In the face of this nearly-unheard-of level of concern, Wilson's instant of panic resolved itself at once. "Yeah," he said, "I'm okay." It didn't hurt yet, and House would see to it that it wouldn't. Even facing the wrong direction he could sense the blue eyes burning into him, reading him, paying attention. A warm wave of contentement washed over him and he relaxed, not afraid to surrender his body into his best friend's care.

House felt the resistance easing, and upped the pace. It felt too good not to... but he was still careful, careful enough that Wilson's only reaction was to shift and go: "Whoa – that's… intense. _House_-" The way he breathed the word was a huge stroke to House's ego. It gave him an idea.

"Gimme your hand." He took Wilson's wrist and guided it between his legs. "Now, jack yourself off," he ordered. "I know it aches a little, but I want you to come while I'm inside you." He noticed Wilson's shiver and smiled. "While I'm _fucking _you. Can you do that?"

Wilson lowered his head to the table, face turned sideways and eyes closed. "Yeah. Yes. Talk to me."

"About what?" House teased, moving with a little more force. "About how you're… _the_… tightest piece I've ever had?" They both laughed a little. "How you feel _so _damn good I doubt you'll be able to come before I do?" He leaned even lower and shifted his grip, one hand grasping Wilson's shoulder and the other arm wrapped around his chest. The closer contact let them feel each other's heavy breathing. "Take your pick, Jimmy. God…"

As he jerked himself off, Wilson found the impalement growing more and more comfortable, until soon he was pushing back against each thrust, whimpering for more. He soon got his way – the strokes became hard enough to make the table squeak. The unbelievably alien sensation of something _moving_ inside him, something stretching and opening him over and over, would have been strangely enjoyable all on its own… but coupled with the sounds of _House _losing control of himself, murmuring senseless praise and compliments into his ear ("ohdamnyoureincredible" would probably be more appropriately addressed to whatever god or evolutionary process had designed anatomy), and all of a sudden orgasm was just a moment away. _House yeah, that's it, more_, he was thinking. He only realized he was saying it aloud when House growled "You got it" at him, held him tight and drilled hard into him until he came all over himself.

House, for his part, had been enjoying it plenty so far. Compared to most partners he'd had lately, this time the fit was more snug, the movement more unpracticedly spastic, and the usual body-image problem was completely nonexistent. Not to mention, he found the broken whimpering of his name coming from Wilson somehow much sexier than the _Oh Greg ooh yeah_ that he usually got from the hired help. It was already a great lay.

But _then, _when Wilson finished, it was suddenly better than any sex House could remember having, ever. Wilson was clenching and releasing, clenching hard, crying out as the fucking didn't stop. House plowed ahead into the delicious spasms anyhow, then continued even as the twitching subsided and his partner's whole body melted beneath him. The hard pounding of a moment ago was clearly too much for Wilson now but he accepted it anyway, yelping with each thrust as he was pushed above and beyond.

It was possibly the sexiest thing House had ever seen. "For me," he panted. Wilson nodded, still squeaking, and spread his knees even further apart in invitation.

House exploded into him.

* * *

When House had stopped shaking he pulled out, gave his friend a locker-room-style pat on the butt, and limped to the sink to chuck the condom and wash his hands. Wilson was lying face up, watching him. 

"What?" House snapped. "What's that goofy smile for? You look like we just had mind-blowing sex or something."

He came back over, covered Wilson's mouth with his hand to prevent him from saying anything sappy, then bent down and kissed him on the forehead.

* * *

TBC. 

H/W is so much fun to write! Damn. I'll probably at some point write the part where House gives it up to Wilson. If I were you and I wanted to read that chapter, I would probably not hold my breath for it because that would be fatal. I would probably not refuse water while waiting, because that would be fatal too. I _might _consider starving myself while waiting, because I would _probably _survive that one. That's the time frame for an update, in case you were wondering.

Oh, and I would also review – it would make the update come faster!


	5. Chapter 5

When House didn't show up at lunchtime that day, Wilson went straight to his office. "I ate a whole candy bar and you didn't swoop down and snatch it from me," he said. "Something must be wrong. How's your leg?"

"How's your ass?" House shot back, clearly irritated.

Wilson flushed immediately, looking around to make sure nobody was in earshot. Then he shrugged and gave an embarrassed smile. "Sore, but worth it."

The unexpected bit of honesty did the trick – House was amused enough to nod and admit: "Same."

It was a touchy subject. More than once when he was drunk and enumerating all the reasons why his life sucked, House had mentioned how _damn _annoying it was to not even be able to enjoy a good screw without paying for it later, sometimes for days. And that was _if _the leg even held up long enough to _make _it a good screw.

Wilson doubted he was supposed to remember these tearful speeches, so he kept his tone light and just asked, "Do you want to go down to the cafeteria, or should we drive and get something?"

House relaxed visibly now that no confession of weakness was required. "No to the cafeteria, yes to the getting something, but no to the _we_. If I don't research this a little more I'm not going to sound omnipotent this afternoon… and we all know how disappointed my team would be."

Wilson gave a huge theatrical sigh. "The things I do for you. What do you want?"

"Something spicy, I don't care. And you're paying." He waited til Wilson was almost at the door before getting his attention again. "Hey." His eyes were very bright and his smile wicked. "That was pretty cool, wasn't it?"

* * *

Two days later, they were watching TV in the clinic when House said, out of the blue: "How's your ass?" 

They both looked equally surprised by the question. "Uh… all better."

"Good."

A moment later, keeping his eyes determinedly glued to the TV, Wilson said, "You know, House, it… really wasn't… that bad. At all." A brief pause. "_I'd _do it again."

House caught the tiny little emphasis on the word, and pretended he didn't. "I'll bet you would."

* * *

But that Friday, they were sitting on the couch at House's place, and he said, following nothing: "Okay." 

Wilson glanced back and forth from him to the TV. "Okay… that tampon really _would_ provide you with superior protection all day long?"

House rolled his eyes at the commercial. "First of all, look at her: that girl's not even menstruating. They need to show a chick bloated up the like the Pillsbury Doughboy, double-fisting chocolate milkshakes, and scowling like she's about to eat me. Kind of like Cuddy today, actually." They watched a few more minutes, and then he elaborated: "Okay, you can do me."

Wilson forgot to be flippant. "Seriously?"

"Yup." House wouldn't look at him.

Even when he turned off the TV and undid his tie.

* * *

TBC. 

Sorry for the cliffie! I've got the next part mostly written. Expect it soon.

And review!


	6. Chapter 6

House let himself be tugged to his feet. "Look at me… _look _at me," Wilson urged. "Are you sure?"

"Y..es…?" But he pulled back a little when Wilson touched him on the arm. "So, d'you figure you'll need any pointers?" he asked. "After all, I definitely think _I _did a good job..."

"You're stalling. Are you nervous?"

"No." House rolled his eyes and laughed like it was ridiculous. Then nodded, short and quick. It was a secret.

Wilson took him by the hips and pulled him closer. "It's gonna be fine," he assured. "Come here." He pulled him in for a kiss and House cooperated with enthusiasm, almost relief. The familiarity of it, the rhythm and the taste, calmed him. "I'm good at this," Wilson continued when they separated. "There was a Mrs. Wilson who liked anal sex."

"Really?" House held him at arm's length. "Which one?"

"No. That's private. How would you like it if I told people about _you_?"

"We don't _know _yet if I'm going to like anal sex," House pointed out.

Wilson smirked at him. "You are. Now we can get naked this time - Cuddy's not going to walk in on us here."

While House undressed, Wilson went over to fiddle with the stereo. In a minute, Leonard Cohen was playing and the lights were dim.

House gave him a Look. "That is _so _gay."

"What – the music?" Wilson unbuttoned his sleeves and then his shirt. "Or the fact that I'm actually about to do you in the ass?"

The language pushed some buttons for House, and the undressing had to wait a moment while they made out. They stumbled over to the bed, still kissing, and sat down on it. "On your side," Wilson breathed, running his hands over House's chest and down his arms. He stripped the rest of the way, then climbed into bed behind him, spooning neatly despite the height difference.

He could feel that his friend was still a little tense, so he took his time stroking him all over and sucking on his neck until he relaxed.

The sight of House lying quiescent, waiting to be _fucked_, was unbearable. "Hey… so, um…"

House nodded right away and shifted a little to get comfortable. But then, at the sound of the condom wrapper, he jumped. "Wait – why don't I get… you know, the gloves?"

Wilson laughed and hugged him around the waist again. "Didn't mean to scare you. No, actually my wife didn't like to be… touched there, so I'm used to doing it like this. Don't worry, I can ease you into it." When House still hesitated, Wilson shook him gently. "Come on – do you really think I'm going to hurt you?"

He ran his hand down House's side, over his hip, and House arched into the touch. "Most things that scare me turn out to be a good idea in the end," he mused. "Yep – go ahead."

* * *

Cool, wet pressure. More pressure. He didn't shrink away from it. Then, suddenly, a short sharp burn. 

_Omigod_ he thought incoherently. _Dick in my ass. _**_Wilson_****_'s _**_dick in my ass. Help._ Once the initial shock had passed he analyzed it and realized: _There'll be more in a minute._

"You okay?" Wilson checked in with him as the invasion deepened. He sucked his breath in – while not quite _painful,_ the sensation of having his insides pried apart was acutely uncomfortable… and really, truly bizarre. "I'll get you more lube," Wilson said into his ear, nuzzling and stroking him soothingly. He eased himself out, pulling steadily against the tug of House's body so as not to hurt.

"No – I'm okay," House protested.

"I know… but trust me, you'll be more okay in a minute."

House felt the cool pressure again, and this time it was easier. With not so much push as slide, it was suddenly in all the way.

House gasped at what it did to him. He searched for words but none were enough: Overwhelmed. Opened. Filled.

Then it _moved_ inside him, sliding inch by inch by inch, and he moaned aloud. _Ohdear. What the hell. _His thoughts wouldn't organize themselves. He wasn't moving or assisting, taking no control in the slightest as this was being done to him, and still it continued, leaving him feeling… helpless. Owned. " Wilson?" he breathed as it pushed deeper into him. _Into… _him.

The rhythm didn't change as an arm settled reassuringly over his waist. A voice – Wilson's, though unusually low and hoarse – in his ear: "Right here, House."

* * *

House came back to himself a little as they talked. "How's it feel?" Wilson wanted to know. 

"Uh. It's good," he answered, a little surprised. "I mean, it's really…"

"Yeah?" Wilson continued to pump smooth and deep, amazed at how completely House had relaxed for him. He'd been granted complete and unrestricted access to his best friend's body and he intended to make sure he did a good job with it. He reached over House's hip to tickle through his pubic hair, then lazily started to jack him off.

The lube-sloppy hand glided in perfect time with the strokes into him. House gasped, "Jesus-"

"James," Wilson corrected.

"Holy shit." House squirmed a little. "Um. Harder? Squeeze- yeah, and… and fuck me harder. _Ah, _mm-hmm."

Every thrust now brought a dull twinge of pain, an ache that worked nicely with the rich heady pleasure of the rest of it. House moved with more purpose, driving his hips into the hand and then back, forcing himself to take more, more and more.

"House," Wilson gasped behind him, ragged and desperate. "Don't. Don't do that. Please – stop or I'm gonna come…"

House's addled brain finally put together that Wilson was trying to hold back, waiting for him. "No," he ordered. "Come now. Hard. Come… in… me."

"House!"

House felt a huge rush of pride at the sound – Wilson was struggling for control, and he was going to _lose_. "As hard as you can," he continued. "As hard as you _want_." The sounds and movements were becoming more frantic and House knew he'd almost won. "Do it," he challenged. He pried Wilson's hand from his cock to remove all distractions. "_Do me._"

Bingo.

"Ah, _fuck!_" Wilson jerked his hand free and grabbed House's wrist instead. With a hard surge of his hips he flipped House onto his stomach, slamming his wrist to the mattress and holding it there.

A moment ago House had been spooning comfortably, taking a gentle sodomy from his very best friend. Now, he was lying prone and pinned, his body plumbed to a depth he'd never dreamed possible, as Wilson completely lost it above him.

And he couldn't be happier. "Yeah," he managed to say, so that Wilson wouldn't get the wrong idea from all the _ah OW oh _noises he couldn't contain. "Yeah, _ow_ yeah."

"House-" Wilson drove into him hard, harder, and finally held it there.

After they grew still House took stock of himself. His ass burned and his guts ached, but he found he didn't care. "That was hot," he whispered. Wilson was still breathing in his ear… add that to the aborted hand job he'd been getting, and the oddly satisfying rectal pain, and House began to be seriously sorry that Greg Junior was trapped beneath him on the bed.

As if reading his mind, Wilson rolled them back onto their sides, without pulling out. "Your turn," he said. "Before I pass out."

Between the two of them it didn't take long. House pumped his fist, Wilson rubbed his balls and groaned "God, you feel amazing" into his ear.

"Beginner's luck." House was taunting even on the edge of an orgasm.

Wilson slid out of him and bit him on the neck. There was a strangled sort of noise that suggested it was effective.

* * *

They lay quiet for a bit, recovering. "Wow," House said at last. "I'm a mess." 

He was referring to the puddle of semen that had smeared all over his stomach and the bed, but Wilson glanced to the space between them and winced. "There's… some blood."

"I'd be surprised if there wasn't," House answered lightly, then hauled himself out of bed to go clean up.

When he came back Wilson had on shorts and a t-shirt. "House… that was _way_ too rough for your first time."

"Yes, mommy," House said, faking a remorseful pout. He pulled on boxers and flopped back down in bed. "It was _perfect_. Cmere." They settled down with House on his back, and Wilson's head resting against his chest. It was silent a while. Then House said: "My ass hurts."

"Oh man, I'm s-"

"I'm not complaining," House told the ceiling. "Just making an observation."

"Mm." Wilson smiled a little. "Then, I'm going to try and _not _make an observation regarding the poetic justice of that, in light of all the times you've been a pain in the ass to other people."

House laughed. They lay still again. They dozed.

"Hey."

Wilson's eyes opened. "What's up?"

"You feel good?"

"God." He laughed against House's chest. "That was so, _so _hot."

"I know." After a bit he added calmly, "I _do _love you, you know. Not like…" he gestured to them, the bed. "-you know. But just in general."

"Yeah. Love you too, House."

House reached for the blanket and tucked it around them.

* * *

The End. 

Ok, you've followed it through to the end. Drop me a line and let me know what you thought!

Thanks for reading.


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